Don't Touch My Marik
by kanyon01
Summary: Marik is infatuated with Bakura. Unfortunately the white-haired teen "doesn't do relationships." Read to find out why that is, and how Marik deals with it. Thiefshipping Multi-chap fic. Re-Upload. Disclaimer: I don't own YuGiOh or any of it's characters.


As the bell rang Marik headed to his second period class; history. He really hated the subject itself, but overall he was happy. Bakura was in this class with him. The blonde smiled as he walked through the doorway and to his seat, which happened to be right beside the white haired teen. The instant Bakura saw the Egyptian he smirked.

"No where else to sit, Ishtar?" He asked.

Marik smiled.

"Actually, no." He admitted. Everyone else refused to take the desk next to Bakura, while Marik purposely came to class late so he could. (He didn't want it to look like he enjoyed sitting by the guy)

Bakura faked a glare, but Marik could see right through it. He knew his companion was secretly happy to have him there. The Egyptian was the only person who didn't fear the thief after all. It was quite the opposite; Marik had a crush on Bakura, though he didn't think his feelings were returned.

Not because he was self-conscious or anything like that, simply because Bakura 'Didn't do relationships.' Marik frowned at the thought.

"Hey are you in there?" Bakura growled, waving a hand in front of Marik's eyes.

"Uh Y-Yah." Marik managed to stutter.

* * *

"Uh Y-Yah." Marik managed to stutter.

Bakura glared daggers. He was starting to get frustrated with Marik. The blonde was basically oblivious to the white-haired teen's feelings for him. The Brit pretended to pay attention to the lesson in order to calm himself down.

That was when Marik knew something was up.

"What's wrong?" He asked, worry creasing his brow.

Bakura inwardly smirked, but decided to use this to his advantage. He put on his best 'I'm upset' face.

"Nothing." He whispered as he looked down dramatically. Marik looked like he was about to panic.

"Seriously, you can tell me. I'm your friend." He said to Bakura.

"It's..just I…..I…..I…." Bakura started. Marik's eyes widened.

"What? What is it?" He urged Bakura to go on.

The Brit suddenly looked up and jerked the blonde forward. Their faces were inches apart. Bakura put on his best puppy dog eyes and waited for Marik's reaction. It wasn't what he expected though. Marik had turned beat red. While resisting the urge to laugh, Bakura whispered "I'm scared of losing you."

Marik's eyes widened drastically, and if possible, his face had turned redder. "W-What?" He stuttered, clearly confused.

That was when Bakura couldn't hold it in anymore. He started cracking up. Marik looked lost for a minute, then realization hit.

"You jackass!" He screeched, ripping away from Bakura. The whole class had been watching them.

"Oh, lighten up. It was just a joke." Bakura said in between laughter. Marik looked ready to strangle someone. The Brit ignored him and faced forward, still chuckling slightly. He noticed the teacher was staring at him disapprovingly. She was just about to say something, but Bakura interrupted.

"Your depriving us of our learning time." He mocked.

The teacher glared, but started up the lesson again. Bakura sighed and leant back. He put his arms behind his head, closed his eyes, and dozed off. Sometime later the bell rang, snapping the Brit awake.

He lazily opened his eyes and looked to the side, expecting to see the Blonde waiting for him. Nobody was there. The rest of the class was filing out of the room. He growled. That damn sensitive Egyptian. Bakura stood up and left, wandering the halls in search of his upset companion.

* * *

Marik was pissed. Bakura had been such a jerk to him. The blonde was just concerned about his friend's well being, and what did he get in return? Made a fool of, that's what. Never again. He couldn't allow himself to care about that selfish jackass any longer. His feelings clearly weren't returned if Bakura could be so cruel as to embarrass him in front of the whole class. Marik growled aloud at the thought.

"What are you growling at, fag?" Some asshole yelled, snapping the Egyptain out of his thoughts.

"Nothing." Marik said. Clearly the guy took it in the wrong way, because he'd decided to be angry.

"Who you calling nothing?" He antagonized dumbly.

"Nobody." Marik said bluntly. He almost laughed aloud at how stupid of a response that was. The guy must've agreed, since he eagerly punched Marik in the stomach. All of the air was knocked out of the blonde, as he keeled over attempting to catch his breath.

The weakness he was showing just earned him another blow to the stomach. The Egyptian could feel the air being sucked out of his lungs. He desperately tried to catch his breath.

But, he knew he looked like a wimp, not fighting back. Marik didn't have to take shit from this guy like he did from his father in the past. He pushed himself to a standing position, angrily colliding his fist with his pursuer's jaw. The guy whimpered as Marik laughed.

That was a mistake.

The attacker growled and pulled out a blade.

Marik's stomach flipped in fear. He knew what was going to happen, he'd almost expected it actually.

In the end there was always a knife.

It was how his back had been ruined, it was how his darkness had come to be, it was how his father had been killed.

His life just never seemed to get better.

The attacker plunged the knife through Marik's hand, receiving a scream in return.

Marik was in a horrendous amount of pain. It felt like the insides of his palm were being ripped to shreds. He looked down at the aching and throbbing limb. Blood was seeping out around the edges of the blade. Marik fell to his knees, not able to handle the sight. He didn't know what to do. Should he take out the knife? No, he didn't want to do that, it would hurt too bad. He couldn't handle any more pain.

"Marik?!" Bakura's panicked voice startled him.

* * *

"Marik?!" Bakura asked, panicked. How he had found his companion terrified him. Marik was on the floor crying, covered in his own blood, while staring at the knife in his hand. Yes, in his hand. Literally. Bakura kneeled next to him. He couldn't seem to ignore the pained look on his friends face.

"What happened?!" He asked the Egyptian, feeling worried and oddly protective.

"I-I..He…" Marik trailed off. Bakura didn't fail to notice the guy taking off down the hallway. The Brit decided to take care of the bitch later since he recognized him.

How he'd pay for touching his Marik.

"Are you hurt anywhere besides your hand?" Bakura asked frantically. Marik looked dazed, but answered after a few seconds of thinking.

"My stomach, b-bruises." He whispered.

"C'mon." Bakura stated. When he realized how traumatized Marik was, he sighed in annoyance. The Brit bent over and picked up the blonde, bridal style, earning a yelp in return.

"W-What are you d-doing?" Marik asked. Bakura sighed again, but decided to ignore the question. He carried Marik into an abandoned classroom and locked the door behind him. Carefully, he lay the Egyptian on the floor.

"Close your eyes." He said.

Marik hesitated, but did as he was told.

Bakura gripped the knife in Marik's hand, though he didn't pull yet. He needed a distraction. After a bit of thinking, his mind was made up. The Brit slowly leaned in and placed his lips on the Egyptian's. The instant they touched, Marik's eyes widened. Bakura took his chance and ripped out the knife. Marik opened his mouth to scream, but Bakura's tongue slipped in and silenced him. The Egyptian kissed back, but only had a small window of opportunity, as Bakura pulled away.

"You're in pain." He stated simply.

"You're in pain." Bakura stated simply.

Marik gulped nervously. He was still trying to understand what just happened. Bakura had…kissed him? Did Bakura like him back? Wait, bigger issues here. He had a knife in his hand just a second ago. Was it still there? Marik looked down. No, it wasn't there any longer. He let out a sigh of relief. Looking up, he noticed Bakura's expectant look. The Brit must've asked something.

"What did you say?" Marik asked. Bakura sighed.

"I asked if your in pain." He recapped. Marik finally got what the Brit was asking, so he nodded. Bakura looked down, only to realize he was straddling his companion. He blushed and stood up.

"Alright, hold on." The white-haired teen said. Then he took a hold of his own sleeve and ripped it off. He silently wrapped the cloth around Marik's palm.

Marik cringed. It felt as if there were loose bones floating around inside his hand. He cried more as the pain increased. Bakura unfortunately noticed this and gripped Marik's opposite wrist. He jerked the blonde to a standing position.

"We have to go to the hospital Marik." Bakura said.

Something felt odd about that statement, but the Egyptian couldn't figure out what. Then it hit him. Despite the great pain, he mustered up a smirk.

"You just called me Marik." He stated happily. (Bakura usually just calls him 'Ishtar')

Bakura looked confused for a second, until he realized his mistake.

"I did not." He said stubbornly.

"Did to.'

"Did not."

"Did to."

"Did not."

"DID TO!" Marik yelled, finishing their argument. Bakura just smirked.

"Fine, I did. But why do you care so much?" He asked the blonde. Marik blushed.

"I-I don't." The Egyptian stuttered.

"You do."

"I don't."

"You do."

"I DON'T!" Marik yelled, thinking he'd won the argument. He'd failed to hear his companion whisper

"You do."

Bakura always had to have the last word.

* * *

Marik was being led out of the huge school by Bakura. The white-haired teen looked closed-off and Marik couldn't seem to figure out why. Had he done something to anger his companion? The Egyptian didn't know. Bakura pulled Marik outside of building, forgetting he was gripping Mariks uninjured hand somewhat possessively.

Marik tried to ignore it, but it was like a constant nag. He tried so hard to keep his heart beating at a regular pace. It didn't seem to be working though, because every couple minutes, Bakura would look up smirking. Guess that meant he knew he was holding Marik's hand after all.

Normally the Brit didn't do anything besides that, but halfway to the hospital (they were speed-walking before Marik lost too much blood), he switched positions. He 'nonchalantly' slipped his arm around the Egyptian's slender waist. Marik failed to hold in a gasp.

"Do you enjoy this position?" Bakura asked. The blonde could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

"N-No." He stuttered, heat rushing to his cheeks. This only caused Bakura to tighten his grip, and move his hand a bit lower. Marik gulped. The white-haired teen's hand was literally inching around his thigh. The. Whole. Way. There.

Let's just say it was distracting. They finally arrived at the hospital, and Bakura shoved Marik through the doors. He stomped up to the front desk and growled.

"I need help for him. Now." He threatened, pointing at the Egyptian. The nurse looked ready to pee herself, but in a mere minute, Marik was being chauffeured into a hospital room.

* * *

Bakura sighed in relief as Marik was put into a room. The Egyptian couldn't tell, but the Brit was actually worried about him. He was losing a lot of blood. Bakura took to distracting Marik from pain on the way to the hospital. It worked too, all he had to do was touch him. It was almost like an instant reaction. The Egyptian's heartbeat sped up, and there was a constant blush he probably thought Bakura didn't see.

The white-haired teen would make fun of him for it, but he was kind of engrossed in touching the Egyptian himself. He didn't want to admit that. In order to avoid the awkwardness, he just wouldn't mention it again.

Back to the present though. The doctors made Bakura wait outside Marik's room while the fixed him up. After a few hours, the Brit was let inside. Marik looked utterly exhausted, and in great pain.

It made Bakura feel oddly upset. He had the sudden urge to pounce the blonde and kiss all the pain away. The white-haired teen shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts. Marik was just supposed to be a friend. So why did he enjoy touching him? And why did he want to kiss him all the time? It made no sense at all.

Bakura strolled over to the hospital bed and sat down in a chair right next to it. He noticed the thick cast on Marik's hand.

"So. Everything ok?" Bakura asked awkwardly, pretending not to be concerned.

Marik hesitated. "Uh yah. Everything with my hand is." He said.

"What do you mean? Is…something else up?" The Brit asked, a little suspicious of where this was headed. Marik nodded slowly.

"Yes. Uh..Why…why did you kiss me?" He asked, looking unsure.

Bakura took the time to think over the answer.

"I wanted to." He replied truthfully.

Marik's eyes widened. Bakura had to hold back his laughter since the Egyptian's expression was hilarious.

"S-so do you ..like me or something?" Marik asked, almost hopefully.

"Define like." The Brit said.

The blonde looked a little bit annoyed, but answered anyway.

"As in..do you want to date me ..?" He asked.

Bakura smirked playfully.

"I don't do relationships." He stated simply.

* * *

"I don't do relationships." He stated simply.

Marik was disappointed and very hurt, but he was trying not to show it. The Egyptian sunk into the hospital bed, and basically buried his face.

"Me neither…" he trialed off, trying to pretend nothing had happened.

But he knew what he felt. Whenever Bakura touched him. That spark. Sure, he already knew he had a crush on the Brit..but now he had suspicions that it could be something…more. And that kiss. It was absolutely perfect to Marik, even while he was in deep pain. It really hurt to be rejected.

Though..he wasn't completely rejected was he? Bakura had just said he didn't do relationships. That meant Bakura could still like him…or even fall for him. Anything was possible, right? Even while trying to convince himself, Marik knew it was pointless. He was in both physical and emotional pain. The Egyptian's dumb feelings toward that moron were getting in the way of his life.

"He's not a moron."

his subconscious corrected.

Frustrated with himself, Marik fisted his uninjured hand and banged his forehead over and over. "Stupid. Stupid. Stupid." He whispered, hoping his companion wouldn't hear. Once again though, Bakura caught every little thing.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked jokingly, with a raised eyebrow.

Marik glared him down. How could he mess around at a time like this? Bakura smirked after his companion didn't respond.

"Cat got your tounge?" He inquired.

"It was more the other way around, kitty." Marik muttered, making sure to emphasize to word 'kitty.' Bakura's face fell, after having caught the joke.

"Whatever." He growled.

Let's just say, this was going to be a long day.

* * *

**A/N: There you have it, a fic with a totally cliché plot. Hope you enjoyed anyways! I hope to update soon, Please Review!**


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